


Dearly Loved and Forever Missed

by cortexikid



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie reads the obituary that Pennywise wrote about Richie, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, and sets out to prove how wrong it is, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortexikid/pseuds/cortexikid
Summary: He is survived by nobody, and will not be missed.“Richie…” Eddie rasped, his chest clenching painfully as he gestured to the screen, unable to look at the words he had just read, they swimming in his suddenly blurry vision. “What the fuck is this?”Richie blinked, once, twice, before storming over to the table and slamming the laptop shut, eyes lowered.“It’s uh, it’s nothing. Do you know where the take out menu is for that new Thai place? I can’t find it in—”“That is not nothing, Rich,” Eddie cut across him sharply, “that’s a fucking obituary.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 44
Kudos: 286





	Dearly Loved and Forever Missed

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this wonderful post on Tumblr](https://alwaysahiccupandastrid.tumblr.com/post/622818374462980096/headcanon-time) ♥️  
> I started writing this at 4am and posted at 6am so sorry if I missed any mistakes lol. Hope you enjoy!

**OBITUARY**

**Richard Tozier**

**1976-2016**

**————————**

_A native of Derry, Maine, Richard Tozier suffered through a troubled childhood that was marred by self-doubt and indecision. His countless insecurities led him to ridicule the few friends he had, an action that would come to haunt him for the remainder of his meaningless life. Richard was an awkward-looking child, and his parents regarded him with both shame and disappointment. Their contempt for him only intensified during Richard’s adolescence, when his repulsive inclinations towards homosexuality and deviance emerged._

_He began performing in the late 1990s, and went on to achieve an unimaginative and forgettable career in stand-up comedy. Unable to escape his anxieties and incapable of sustaining any real human connection, he was eventually abandoned by his remaining friends, who never really knew him in the first place._

_In the end, his pathetic indecision in life and disgusting sexual urges left him alone, without any reason to live, and now everyone knows his dirty secret. His death is the punchline to the only funny joke he ever made: His life._

_He is survived by nobody, and will not be missed._

“Hey Eds, have you seen the—”

Eddie Kaspbrak’s gaze shot up from the laptop, just in time to see Richie freeze, wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open mid-sentence. 

“Richie…” Eddie rasped, his chest clenching painfully as he gestured to the screen, unable to look at the words he had just read, they swimming in his suddenly blurry vision. “What the fuck is this?” 

Richie blinked, once, twice, before storming over to the table and slamming the laptop shut, eyes lowered. 

“It’s uh, it’s nothing. Do you know where the take out menu is for that new Thai place? I can’t find it in—”

“That is not nothing, Rich,” Eddie cut across him sharply, “that’s a fucking obituary. A horrible, disgusting—”

“Why were you looking through my laptop?” Richie interjected, voice weak as he continued to avoid eye contact, crossing to the sink and turning on the faucet.

“I was going onto the Thai place’s website because I knew you were craving curry and wouldn’t be able to find the menu,” Eddie explained, standing up and walking towards his friend’s back that was lined with tension, his shoulders hunched, his head lowered as water continued to flow. 

“...Did you write it?” 

It was a question he really didn’t want to ask. Couldn’t bear to consider the possibility, but also disliked the idea of it being some sort of sick hate mail. 

_Meaningless life. Shame and disappointment. Repulsive inclinations. Unimaginative and forgettable. Incapable of sustaining any real human connection. Abandoned. Disgusting sexual urges. Without any reason to live. His death is the punchline. Survived by nobody. Will not be missed._

Eddie’s stomach twisted with nausea as those words flashed before his eyes and he tried desperately to blink them away. 

Along with the unshed tears.

Slowly, he reached out to clasp Richie’s shoulder. 

Only to have Richie shrug it off, sidestepping him to grab a glass. 

“No, I didn’t write it. Fuck.” 

He shoved the glass under the water and took several large gulps before slamming the glass back down and finally turning off the faucet. 

He sighed. 

“But I might as well have.” 

Eddie’s heart clenched in his chest as he waited, worry gnawing at his nerves. 

Richie’s back was still to him, his hands gripping the kitchen counter, his head hung low. 

“It’s what that bastard made me see back in Derry. Just like...just like the Missing Posters back in ‘89, only new and more traumatising. Gotta give the guy props for flair, I guess.” 

Ice flowed through Eddie’s veins. 

_Of course. Pennywise_. 

“Shit, Richie, that’s...that’s so messed up,” he muttered lamely, hands wrapping themselves around his elbows, hugging himself to stop from reaching out for him again. 

“But…” he cleared his throat, hating how raw his voice sounded as he swallowed down the emotion that was clawing its way up his throat, “why is it on your laptop? It’s...it’s saved in your work folder, Rich, I—”

“I typed it out awhile back,” Richie gave a shrug, his back still turned, “surprised I could remember it pretty much verbatim, but ol’ Penny did always have a knack for being particularly haunting.” 

Eddie thought of his mother strapped to a table and begging him to save her. He thought of lepers and spider-Stan heads and claws impaling him to death. He had to agree. 

But even with all that, nothing made him feel as sick as those three short paragraphs. Not his mother’s screams. Not lepers projectile vomiting all over him. Not the decapitated head of his then-dead friend sprouting legs and attacking them. And not even his own death. 

_Will not be missed…_

Did Richie really think that? Believe that? Pennywise did always base his attacks on fear so…

Bile rose up Eddie’s throat. 

“Why did you type it out?”

It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. But those words were stuck in his rib cage somewhere, right beneath his scar, nestled firmly between his own fears and insecurities. 

Richie heaved another sigh, finally turning around to rest against the counter, folding his arms tightly across his chest and staring at a spot on the floor. 

His entire body screamed, _I don’t wanna talk about this. Drop it, Eddie. Leave it alone. Leave me alone._

_Will not be missed…_

“Rich,” he coaxed gently, trying and failing to catch his eye, “why would you—”

“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know, okay?!” 

If Eddie were a lesser man, he would have reared back in shock at Richie’s outburst, but as it was, he was too busy trying to make sure Richie didn’t hurt himself as he suddenly began to violently pace back and forth, his voice loud and thick with emotion. 

“It stayed with me. And I hate that. I hate that something so fucking dumb, so insignificant when compared to all the shit we went through, fuck, _you_ went through, before and after, keeps fucking showing up in my dreams. Taunting me, making me read it over and over and over like it’s some self-fulfilling prophecy that I just haven’t accepted yet. Because fuck, Eds, he wasn’t wrong, you know?” 

Richie paused, waving a hand, his eyes wide and wild behind his glasses. 

“I _was_ a total screw up. I was filled with self doubt and insecurities out the wazoo. I was awkward-looking and Maggie and Went didn’t know what to do with me most of the time and they...they knew. They always knew about me and they...they just never brought it up ‘cause fuck, I don’t know? I guess I was already enough of a shameful disappointment without being fucking gay in the eighties on top of all that.”

He let out a horrible sound, a cross between a laugh and a sob, running a hand through his hair. 

“And my career _was_ unimaginative, forgettable, fucking atrocious most of the time. I was so insecure that I let other people write for me, but deep down, I knew they had a point. I just…wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t funny enough. And any ‘friends’ I had didn’t know me, not really. They knew “Trashmouth” the character I played so I wouldn’t have to get real with anyone, show anyone who I really was because I knew when they saw me, the real me, they’d leave. But they still did anyway.” 

He sniffed, shaking his head. 

“And I hated myself, was disgusting and pathetic. I couldn’t leave the closet so I ridiculed it instead. Aligned myself with sexist and homophobic dickwads so I could use those jokes as a shield, all while getting off to the same shit I made fun of. Settled for strangers in bars in cities I’d never visit again, my own right hand and the most discreet porn subscription I could find. I was a hypocrite and a coward.”

He sagged back against the counter, his entire body deflating as his voice dropped to barely above a whisper. 

“And maybe he was right, you know? Maybe the funniest joke of all is—me. _I’m_ the punchline. Little Richie Tozier who always yelled the loudest and craved attention and notoriety, ended up being nothing but a washed up, closet-case with more neuroses than friends to miss hi—”

Eddie surged forward and tugged Richie down against him, wrapping his arms tightly around his back and leaning up on his tip-toes. 

“Beep beep, Richie.” 

A choked sob escaped Richie as he practically melted into the hug, his arms coming up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, clinging tightly as he pressed his face into the crook of his neck. 

Eddie suppressed a shiver as Richie’s lips brushed his skin, focussing on his words. 

“None of that is true, Richie, do you hear me? Not one fucking word. You weren’t a screw up, you were the smartest kid in school, are you kidding me? It used to drive me fucking crazy that you never opened a book but would somehow get straight A’s. And you weren’t awkward looking, you were cute as hell. Even with your terrible Hawaiian shirts and coke bottle glasses you were charming as fuck in your own way.”

A small exhale that could have possibly been the beginning of a laugh, tickled Eddie’s neck. 

“And Maggie and Went were maybe a little baffled by you, a little confused, but I don’t think they were ever, ever disappointed or ashamed of you. Fuck, your mom was only telling me last week about the time you won that trophy for your routine in the talent competition and how she still has it proudly displayed on her mantel. And Went said at dinner two months ago about how relieved he was at seeing you thriving after coming out. About how he hopes you find someone who’ll love you for you.”

Eddie felt Richie tense a little at that, his arms tightening around his waist. 

“And as for your career, the nineties weren’t fucking ready for Richie Tozier. So you were forced to spout other people’s shit even though you are a thousand times funnier and so ahead of the times you were practically Marty McFly. And I don’t blame you for keeping on the ghost writers. You were making a living. And I know you’re not proud of the things you said, but you’ve more than made up for it, Rich. You’re so honest now, so apologetic and repentant for every shitty one-liner some jackass wrote for you. You’re doing your best to write your own material and it’s gold, Rich. I know I’m biased but, fuck. You have a Netflix show. Completely written, 100% by you. I was here, I saw the blood, sweat and tears you put into that routine, and we all couldn’t be prouder of you.” 

He squeezed Richie’s shoulders to emphasize his point. 

“Even if the ‘your dad’ jokes still make me want to jab a chopstick in your eye.” 

A full laugh, albeit quiet and subdued, escaped Richie then, the little puff of air causing goosebumps to spread across Eddie’s neck and spurred him on. 

“And you…you can date now. Openly, publicly. I know the world isn’t perfect, will never be, but you have so much support, Rich. So many people behind you that just want you to find happiness with someone. You don’t have to hide anymore. You were so brave coming out, telling the world who you are and I know...there is someone out there just waiting for you. And he’s the luckiest guy in the world.” 

Eddie’s heart thumped hard in his chest as he willed away the ache, the words far more honest than Richie could possibly ever know, even as they broke his heart to say them. 

His breath hitched as Richie’s hand brushed up from his waist to settle in between his shoulder blades, tightening the hug. 

“A-And,” Eddie forced himself to continue, “You have friends, people who know you inside and out and...love you for who you are. You will forever have people to miss you, Rich. Fuck, I miss you when you fly to New York for meetings, I can’t even bring myself to imagine how much I’d miss you if—”

He cut himself off, shoving down that horrible thought before it can break the surface of his deepest, darkest fears. 

He stepped back, breaking their hug to catch Richie’s eye, but his arms staying firmly around him, their stance almost like a motionless dance. 

Their gazes met, their dark eyes shinier than usual, their cheeks damp. 

“Bottom line is, Loser, you’re not allowed to die any time soon. But when you do, your obituary will be nothing like that. It will be filled with details of a childhood rife with laughter and fun, a career which thrived after complete revitalisation and a life filled with love. So much fucking love it’ll have all the readers jealous as fuck. You know, if people still read newspapers in 2076.” 

A full belly laugh met those words, Richie sniffling so loud it should have grossed Eddie out and had him running for a Kleenex, but instead only had him grinning widely, his eyes tracing the adorable flush crossing Richie’s cheeks. 

_You are so, so loved._

“You think I’m gonna live to see a hundred, Eds?” 

Eddie nodded. 

“You better. ‘Cause I sure plan to and you’re not leaving me to yell at kids to get off our lawn by myself.” 

Richie blinked. 

It was then that Eddie’s words caught up with him and heat rushed to his face. 

_Jesus, Eddie. Why don’t you just fucking propose while you’re at it. Fuck._

“You think we’re still gonna be living together then?” Richie asked, voice quiet and...vulnerable in a way Eddie couldn’t ever remember hearing. 

“I thought this whole roommate thing was only temporary?”

Eddie knew it was a joke. That Richie was just poking fun at Eddie’s own words when he had first moved in with him coming up to a year now, when he was freshly-resurrected and recently-divorced and in need of a new start. 

He lowered his eyes, shuffling a little, but not breaking their loose embrace. 

“Uh, well, I mean...probably not, right? You’ll uh...you’ll have found someone by then. A boyfriend or…or husband maybe, but I—I’ll always be there for you, Rich. I’m not going anywhere. Except maybe like, to become your neighbour when—”

“I’m not gonna find some random boyfriend or husband Eds, so you won’t be going anywhere unless...unless you want to,” Richie cut across him, giant hands giving a quick squeeze to Eddie’s hips that had him sucking in a breath.

He looked up. 

Those large, dark eyes that he had never truly forgotten even with Derry amnesia magic, stared down at him with a look that had his stomach swooping pleasantly. 

“I don’t want to,” he replied, firmly but quietly, reluctant to burst whatever bubble they had found themselves in. 

“I don’t want you to either.”

A beat. 

Two. 

Eddie watched, utterly transfixed as Richie’s eyes flickered minutely downwards. Eddie let his own do the same, catching on Richie’s lips that were slightly parted, short little breaths fanning against his skin, their faces merely inches apart. 

_How could he ever think he isn’t loved?_

Almost unbeknownst himself, Eddie reached up and brushed away the remaining tear from Richie’s cheek with his thumb. 

“So, I guess we’ve got another sixty years for you to learn how to load the dishwasher without me having to correct it then, huh?” 

Richie chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

“Yes, dear.” 

Eddie’s stomach gave another swoop and _god_ , he wanted to kiss this gorgeous, infuriating, ridiculous man with every fibre of his being. 

So he did.

Richie let out a gasp as their lips met, but it was soon replaced by a groan as he pulled Eddie flush against him, kissing back wholeheartedly. 

Eddie wound one hand into Richie’s hair, the other clutching his hip as his mind sighs— _finally_. 

Years of unspoken words were woven into that kiss, passing between them with a strength that made Eddie weak at the knees. 

Reluctantly, he pulled back barely an inch to catch his breath, staring up at Richie with a gaze he knew to be honest and open and everything he wanted him to know. 

But he wanted Richie to hear it, too. 

He deserved that and so much more. 

“I love you, Rich. I always have. You...you’ll never be alone, or unmissed. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

A slow but radiant smile broke out on Richie’s face, his eyes wide with awe. 

Suddenly, he leaned forward and began peppering every inch of Eddie’s face with wet kisses, murmuring words in between.

“Love you so much—since I was—twelve years old—I want you for forever—and after—can’t wait to watch you—yell at kids—grumpy old man—”

Eddie snorted out a laugh, catching Richie’s face in his hands before he could stoop back in to smack a sloppy peck on his forehead, instead capturing his mouth again, this time trailing his tongue along his bottom lip.

Richie opened his mouth with another loud groan, their tongues meeting as he pulled Eddie even closer to him, lifting him several inches off the floor in a move that should have had him grumbling, but instead shot a bolt of arousal through his abdomen. 

_Something to examine at a later date..._

“Fuck Eds,” Richie gasped against his lips as they exchanged soft smiles, “you kiss me like that again and I might even learn how to use the tumble dryer...” 

~*~ 

**OBITUARY**

**Richard Tozier**

**1976-2076**

**———————**

_A native of Derry, Maine, Richard "Richie" Tozier grew up in a loving household with his parents Wentworth and Margaret who were always a little bemused by their energetic and vivacious son, but proud of his unique and fun personality, their home always filled with a litany of impressions and voices._

_Richie had a small, but close knit group of friends, affectionately called The Losers Club, made up of best-selling horror novelist, Bill Denbrough (1976-2074), stylist to the stars, Beverly Marsh-Hanscom (1976-2075), award-winning architect of Hanscom & Co, Ben Hanscom (1976-2075) travel writer & groundbreaking documentary filmmaker, Mike Hanlon, (1975-2074), civil rights lawyer, Stanley Uris (1975-present), and Richie’s future-husband, founder of the L.O.V.E.R. Foundation for LGBT+ kids, Eddie Kaspbrak-Tozier (1976-present.) _

_The Losers’ many adventures and anecdotes were lovingly recited by Richie over the span of his near-forty-year career in comedy, first as a standup comedian and then as a television writer and producer, his comedy/drama Clownin’ Around becoming an international hit and earning him multiple awards including, Emmys, Golden Globes and memorably, a People’s Choice Award for its depiction of a same-sex couples’ adoption process._

_Richie famously came out as gay live during one of his shows, ‘Trashmouthed’, completely unrehearsed to the shock of the media and public at large. But he was soon embraced by a wave of support after issuing a heartfelt, sincere apology for his past jokes. Soon after, he and his future-husband began dating, eventually marrying in 2019 and adopting a daughter, Margaret, "Maggie-Bev."_

_Richie is survived by his husband, Eddie, their daughter, their two grandchildren and their dog. He was dearly loved and will be forever missed by his family, friends, and many fans around the world._

* * *

[More Reddie fics here.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortexikid/pseuds/cortexikid/works?fandom_id=134900) Hope you enjoyed! 

**Author's Note:**

> I think Eddie would have passed on quite soon after Richie. He can't have him having all the fun in the afterlife without him, after all


End file.
